Our Pathetic Sonata
by quixoticreator
Summary: In which the Master needs a body to occupy, the Doctor holds a certain emotional attachment to only one available, adventures in time and space are had, and the past refuses to stay past
1. Prelude

_A/N: this story is more or less a long and convoluted 'what if' scenario with a bit of slash to taste, but hey, it was enjoyable to write. (Hopefully it's enjoyable to read too) Also I intend for the chapters to get longer after this._

_Typical disclaimer; these characters are not mine nor will they ever be, as you might have guessed by the fact that this is a fanfiction website._

* * *

**pa·thet·ic**

_adjective_

1. causing or evoking pity, sympathetic sadness, sorrow, etc.; pitiful

2. affecting or moving the feelings.

**so·na·ta **

_noun_

a composition for one or two instruments, typically in three or four movements in contrasted forms and keys.

* * *

The Doctor had been by himself the TARDIS console room, just after bidding good night to a pair of Ponds, when it began. Not doing anything in particular, simply thinking as he so often did when all was done and there was nothing left to distract him. Standing alone in the heart of his most dependable partner, he allowed himself to entertain the thoughts that so constantly called at him from the farthest reaches of his psyche. Thoughts of morality and mortality. Of adventure and companionship. Of the past and the future- basically the usual train of thought for the Last of the Time Lords himself. There was nothing to be heard save for the gentle sound of his hearts beating out a rhythm containing memories he's chosen to bury.

He had been sleeping well lately. He often had periods when he did, when all of his past experiences left his conscious alone for a time. Nothing had happened recently that might bring the more... unfortunate parts of his history to the surface of his mind. His faithful companions were still there. No lives recently lost under his watch. Earth continued to spin. Oh he knew it couldn't stay like this forever- no one knows that like him- but for the time being, that didn't matter a bit.

He was, relatively speaking, at peace.

Of course, as per usual for him, he was soon interrupted by something in time and space demanding his attention.

And demand it did.

There was a sudden (and what can only be described in hindsight as theatrical) explosion, causing the TARDIS doors to swing open in a flurry of smoke and debris. Despite the preliminary shock, he was able to pull his thoughts together quickly. He was, after all, the Doctor. He knew what he was doing. Well, more or less. He had experienced things like this before; he wasn't especially worried for the TARDIS, he knew she was tough. Amy and Rory would likely be running in here any minute, but he knew they could handle themselves. If something wanted him to notice it, then they had total success.

Age-old instinct kicking in, he whipped around, sonic screwdriver in hand. With not a second's hesitation he was pointing it in the general direction of wherever or, more accurately, _who_ever, it had come from.

Through the chaos the blast had wrought, he could make out a silhouette stepping towards him. Unsure of what else he might be able to do in his current situation, the Doctor never let his gaze nor his pseudo-weapon falter from the figure striding through the mayhem that it had presumably brought about. He strained to make out a face, but was unable to attach a name to what he could see from where he was standing. Before he could think of what he ought to do next, he heard a disturbingly familiar voice.

"_Hello there, _Doctor," it chimed as it continued to make its way through the wreckage without hesitation, as if completely unaware of its surroundings.

He froze up. He knew _exactly_ who this voice belonged to, and hadn't the faintest idea how to react to its unexpected return to him. Memories, both incredibly pleasant and incredibly melancholic in nature, came flooding back to him with such speed that he nearly dropped his screwdriver. It _couldn't_ be.

"how _have_ you been?"

_Donna Noble. The most important woman in the universe._

That name that had been forced to the back of his mind came to him as he was faced with the sight of an all-too familiar redheaded woman aiming a gun at his head. And despite the latter bit, the Doctor allowed relief into the initial wave of emotion that washed over him at the sight. As it would happen, that optimism lasted for the two seconds in between then and when he paid closer attention to the smile tugging at her lips.

Something was wrong.

It was far too malevolent to be hers, completely lacking in the wacky lightheartedness he remembered so fondly. Not only that, but her gaze was too dark, her stance too aggressive. Her suit a little too sharp and her air simply too cold. They were subtle differences, possibly too subtle to be substantial to most, but he _knows_ Donna.

Something was very, very wrong.

"Just going to stare at me are you?" whatever was inhabiting her body questioned. Oh it was her voice alright, but wasn't _her_. In place of playful their mockery was laced with a manic coldness that brought back memories of someone else completely... _no._ That was impossible, even more so than the sight in front of him, so he made an effort to crush that idea (dare he call it... hope?) immediately so not to distract from the task at hand.

"You're not her." This was the only thing he, the clever doctor, knew for sure about the body standing in front of him.

"Well... Yeah. Obviously," they retorted without a moment's hesitation, "why the hell would _she_ do any of the things I have in the past few minutes? Frankly, I'm slightly offended you haven't figured out who I am beyond 'not Donna.'"

He scanned the body in front of him, running every fact he could get from it through his head. _Who or whatever is inside of Donna is obviously of questionable mental stability. They've come looking for me so they also have made contact with me at some point and judging by the entrance I'd say they're also not too pleased with me- which doesn't really narrow it down very much. And unless Donna is just particularly unlucky, I'd also say that this little grudge of theirs is from my tenth regeneration. Cheeky fellow I was, wouldn't be surprised if there are some creatures who still hold a grudge from that one... _Focus Doctor!_ Who would possibly pull off something like this to get back at me? Cassandra? No, no, that can't be it. Aside from the obvious reasoning against it, this seems like the work of- no no no, stop right there. False hope won't get you anywhere here_

Not-Donna's grin widened with every second the Doctor spent frantically searching the scene in front of him, the answer continuing to evade his grasp.

_That grin... It really does seem like... Oh get a hold of yourself! You're letting the past cloud your judgement. There has to be another explanation for all this._

Soon enough, Not-Donna had grown tired of watching the Doctor's silent argument with himself. Delicately taking a step forward, the Doctor hardly had time to think before he felt their fist making contact with his stomach, sending him to the ground.

"Come _on_, Doctor, it's _so_ obvious," he heard them chide from above him without bothering to look up. He had to concentrate.

_Unpredictable, very strong, more than willing to beat me to the ground out of impatience..._

Their eyes continued to watch the sunken Doctor's every move like a hawk, who looked up and started watching theirs just as closely.

_This is all a game to them. They probably could have killed me by now if they wanted to. They get joy from seeing me struggle._

Forcing himself to look into their stolen eyes, he tried to pick apart the emotions they were trying to convey. There was something about that gaze that was hauntingly, _painfully_ familiar. And he while he tried to convince himself of the opposite, he knew exactly why. However much he tried to force that name down, he knew there was simply no denying it any longer, and it showed on his face.

"Ah," they murmured softly, "it's about time you've accepted the truth of the situation."

_My oldest friend._

"..."

_My oldest enemy._

"You know how it always is with me. Say it."

_My oldest everything._

"Hello, Master."


	2. First Movement

_A/N: I will be using male pronouns for the Master-Donna, not out of offence to anyone of a non-binary gender identity, but because of reasons that are addressed in this chapter. Also I forgot to mention that this takes place between the fifth and sixth series. My bad._

_ANYWAYS sorry this took so long. School and whatnot. _

_And a big thank you to those who left such nice reviews. It's much appreciated._

* * *

Silence hung over the two of them, containing all the noiseless thoughts rushing through their heads that never became words. There was so much that needed to be said and yet the Doctor, of all people, was left standing speechless.

The Master was also uncharacteristically quiet, but not nearly as uncomfortably as the Doctor appeared to be- his face was contorted into a engrossed, bordering on pained, expression- as if he were drowning in his thoughts. Oh no, he was _definitely_ not uncomfortable with the sight he was presented with. The Doctor, tongue-tied and at his mercy in his own TARDIS, _oh what a treat this was._

Except this was _wrong_.

They had been dancing their tangled, messy dance so long they didn't know how to do anything else. Yet now, in the place of words like weapons once fired so freely, there was only this loaded quiet enveloping and choking them both.

The Doctor opened his mouth for a second, then closed it again. His eyes gleamed with such strong emotions- sorrow, guilt, rage- that had only intensified with century after century of running away. He could see so much in that ancient gaze that he consciously tore his gaze away after what could have been a second or an hour, for fear of what the Doctor might see in his.

The Doctor opened his mouth again, and this time managing to articulate a handful of the millions of words forming in his head, the only ones he always knew how to.

"Master... _I'm sorry-_"

"Master? Who's master?"

They both turned to see a nightgown-clad redhead, husband in tow, armed with a coat rack which had presumably been displaced in the Master's dramatic entrance.

"Ah, so this is the lovely Amelia Pond?" He lowered his gun and made his way towards her, "no surprises here, he always did go for the pretty ones." The Master was looking her up and down, clearly judging how disappointingly human she was, disdain dripping from his voice.

Amy held her ground, but failed to hide how increasingly tense she was becoming in her current situation. The Doctor, however, was more focused on the Master. He had immediately recognized the look on his face. Oh yes, he has seen that look far too often for his own liking, the face of someone whose plan was going without a hitch.

"Let her go."

"God you're predictable. Though you could hardly say I've _got_ her-"

"I mean it, Master, now."

"-and I'm hardly stupid enough to kill your latest girlfriend in front of you."

The Doctor ignored the grumbled noise of protest Rory made from the background and continued, "not Amy... Donna."

"You know I can't do that."

"I don't care."

"Yes you do."

"I-"

"That is, if the water works a few times back were genuine; oh, but you're a new man now is that it? Finally got the part of the hardened soldier down?"

"Listen to me, that woman's mind, it's- it's _unstable_. Even the slightest psychic shove on your part could set something off and it aflame. She would die and you'd be lost with her."

"I'm aware."

"You've always been one for self-preservation... this seems like a paradoxically big risk to be taking, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm not fond of being dead. Or bodiless. Or trapped in the Time War; oh, that reminds me, _good job_ on that one. Anyways, I had no intention of inhabiting a human again so there I was thinking I'd have to go after you for that _again,_ which in case you've forgotten, _didn't go so well the last time. _Lucky for me, you left this human... time lord... _thing_ in your wake. She may pose some challenges, but nothing too much to be worth it."

"You seem to be in a talking mood, care to tell me _how_ you did it as well?"

The Master smirked and stepped closer to the Doctor. In their current form, the Doctor was the taller of the two, but that didn't stop him from using Donna's eyes to stare straight into his, as if this new form would allow him access into that ever-racing mind.

Actually, that wasn't a half-bad idea.

"Let me _show_ you," he said, stepping even closer.

"I don't see why not," the Doctor mumbled in reply.

The Master hesitated for a moment, perhaps to decide what to show him? Whatever he was doing, he seemed to be considering whether or not to do... _something_. Not thinking much of it, he closed his eyes, awaiting fingertips on temples and the shock of another mind on his.

It was then that he went and pulled the Doctor into a kiss.

_Oh._

There was definitely nothing remotely romantic or sexy about it- his senses were a horrible mess of seemingly unconnected images and sounds and emotions whirring around him and he was too distracted by the fact that _okay hold up the Master was kissing him why is this even happening_ to make much of it. He found himself surrounded by that horrible drumbeat as far too familiar sights of death and destruction danced before his eyes. Through the flames he could see blurred glimpses of his wonderful earth and that ever-so-important woman and God, did it _hurt_.

Lucky for him, Amy was more than happy to step in again.

"Does somebody want to tell me what the _hell_ is going on!?"

"Oh, do forgive me for not introducing myself. You may call me the Master. I'm a time lord myself you see. We go way back, the Doctor and I-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. Doctor? Do you want add something?"

"No... No, that's about right..." He murmured, not bothering to look up to address her. He was completely lost in thought, trying to make sense of the fragmented memories he had obtained.

"I gave you everything you need to figure it out, you know. The way I did it wasn't _really_ that distracting, was it?"

"About that, was it really necessary?"

"Well if I _am_ going to be here a while, might as well have a little fun right off the bat."

"Who says you're staying?"

"Like you'd really let me galavant through the universe in an unstable stolen body."

"And who says you're keeping that body?"

The Master just smirked back.

"We both know the answer to that one, Doctor. After all, _I know you_." He taunted, his voice a parody of the Doctor's last.

He giggled at his own joke for a moment before ceasing to allow that same silence caused by too much to say to pass through the room again. In time, the Doctor broke it with a simple "Alright."

* * *

"Doctor is this really a good idea?"

"Of course it isn't."

"I've already seen the way you look at her-"

"Him."

"Pardon?"

"I'm fairly certain that though the body may be different, everything else from his last regeneration is the same. Personality stuff, basically what's _inside_ him and all that. Remember Harold Saxon? Well that was him. Not important anymore though. The point is, had he regenerated _into_ a woman it would be different, but due to the complicated nature of it all you can't really say this is true. So- the Master continues to be male. I think. Honestly it doesn't matter, but you humans seem to place importance on this stuff, what with the way your languages tend to be structured, so you might as well get it right."

"Oh... Wait- no, not 'oh,' that had nothing to do with the conversation at hand. Doctor, I've seen the way you look at him for maybe five minutes and that's more than enough for it to be obvious that this is a terrible idea."

"He's the only other one left. Do you _know how_ _that feels?_"

She didn't respond save for a minute shake of her head, clearly stunned by the sudden shift in emotion.

"No... No, Amy, I'm sorry. You're right, you really are, but you have to understand that I can't just let him go."

"I'm worried about you, you know."

"Rightly so."

"...Don't do anything exceptionally stupid, okay?" Without waiting for a response, Amy turned and walked back down the TARDIS corridor to the console room, leaving Rory alone with the Doctor in the dim light.

"She really has a point, you know," He said after a brief moment, "you can't just let things like this fester inside of you."

"Oh, Rory, not you too..."

"I mean it, though. Whatever was between you and this Master bloke, it obviously didn't end well,"

_That's an understatement._

"and I'm aware that you've got a lot of guilt to work out,"

_Also an understatement._

"really, I don't even know where I'm going with this, but-"

"Yes, good talk, great talk, now if you'll excuse me, your wife is currently alone with a psychopathic genius so I think I ought to go check on her." He interrupted as he dramatically spun around to follow Amy.

Rory sighed and walked after him.

* * *

Next thing the TARDIS's three passengers knew, the Doctor was pirouetting around the control panels with all the grace of the average ostrich.

"_ALL RIGHT_, no use sitting around in our jammies when there's all of time and space to explore! Amy, Rory, don't just stand there, there are _things_ to be done. Master, behave yourself and you get to come along too. None of that conquering business you're always up to. My TARDIS, my rules, alright? Good. Now,"

"Doctor..." Rory muttered, uneasy with the drastic change in his attitude.

"-where and-slash-or when to? Have I taken you two to New New York yet? That one always seems to go well. In a sense. Maybe not _common_ sense, but most things tend to go well in _a_ sense, don't they? Actually, thinking about it, maybe not. Tell you what, how about we pick a random planet and hope for the best-"

"_Doctor._" Amy repeated, more boldly than her husband.

All of them noticed that something was off here, yet none of them knew what to make of it.

"Oh of course, what was I _thinking_- you still haven't gotten a good night's rest, which, I would say, is absolutely essential for any and all potential adventuring. I should probably let you get to that. And the old girl's still a bit jumbled around so I guess you could say _all_ of us should be rest-"

"_Oi! Would you kindly shut it already, you skinny idiot!_"

That certainly shut the Doctor up.


End file.
